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The Grass
My name is Andrew Smith. I am an Entomologist, and for those of you who don't know what that is, it's someone who studies insects and other arthropods for a living. I have one sole friend named Jacob. We became friends in fourth grade and have been friends ever since. An “interesting” thing about Jacob is that he is insanely obsessed with cryptids, creatures not proven to exist, like Bigfoot and the Loch Ness monster. He has always told me stories about cryptids even though I didn't really care. Having a mind of skepticism and logic, his stories never really appealed to me, however I listened to them anyway to make him fell good and so he could have someone to talk to. He would always come up with the wildest stories. Like once, he said that aliens abducted his dog and dropped it back in his yard five minutes later. He also said he saw a giant six foot centipede in his back yard that hissed at him and wriggled into a round golf ball sized hole. Being an Entomologist, I instantly realized that this completely defied all logic and reason, and deduced that it was probably a rat snake (we live in Miami anyway). There are invasive species in Florida, but a six foot centipede? Give me a break. I'm 27 now and live alone in a small townhouse. It was the middle of summer and there is a section of the neighborhood under construction, and I presumed that they were building more houses. One night, there was the loud sound of construction workers cutting wood. My dog was going nuts and barking like crazy at the shrill whine of the saws. The construction was taking place less than a quarter of a mile away so the noise was relatively loud. The sound of my dog barking became mind numbing and I barely noticed that his barking was getting further away. When I realized this, I sprinted to the window to see him running down the street towards the half built houses. He was a few hundred feet away by the time I got out of the house running after him and screaming his name. He ran through a fence that said, "No Unauthorized Personnel Allowed" and I stopped. I didn't even realize how dark it was until I actually stopped to read the sign. It was barely legible. By dark, I mean pitch black, unnatural for the skies if Miami. It was a new moon, so I only had the light of the stars to guide me. I ignored the sign because my dog was obviously more important than a trespassing fine. I started to walk towards some small lights coming from what I presumed to be construction trailers and equipment about 100 yards away. I walked into an open field, or at least what I perceived to be a field (like I said, it was pitch black). I felt the tall grass on my bare legs because I was wearing shorts, and I proceeded to walk. As I was walking, I realized that this grass was strangely rough. I've mowed a lawn before, two different ones to be exact, my parents' lawn and my lawn at my house today, and they never felt like this on my legs. However, those lawns were both very nice lawns with no weeds, so I guessed that these were weeds. I kept walking. The sound of construction equipment was getting louder to the point where it drowned out any other noises and almost hurt my ears. I kept walking. The grass began to get taller, and I began to feel the dew on my legs, which I though was a little strange. It was a little too early for dew but that may be because we were being hit by a cold front, and the grass shouldn't be taller, but that area may get more sun, so I blew it off. I kept walking. This is where it starts to get strange. The grass, very subtly at first, started gripping my leg hair. I blew it off as those weeds that have a grippy and sticky texture, but for some reason, that explanation still did not quite fit what I was feeling and did not sit right with me. I kept walking. The grass began to get even taller, up into my pant legs, which I found unnerving because grass doesn't normally do that. I swatted at my legs and began to walk at a faster pace. The grabbing slowly started to hurt to the point where I stared to jog. I must have walked into a patch of thistle. The grass grabbed and clawed at my legs. I felt gashes ripped into my calves. My inner thighs were being scratched at by God knows what. I began sprinting and almost galloping, trying to come into as little contact with the grass as I could. I was 50 yards away when I heard the hissing. It was horrifying. It sounded like the mixture between a snake and a person dry heaving. 30 yards. The pain was excruciating. I was definitely bleeding out by now and needed to go to the hospital. I could feel a strange crunching beneath by feet as the ground started to move under me. I kept running. 20 yards. My legs ached. The hissing overpowered the sound of construction equipment; it was everywhere! It surrounded me! 10 yards. I could see the concrete. I could smell the sawdust. I could taste the fumes. I was there on the concrete. I was safe. Then the lights turned on for the workers' night shift. I looked down at my legs to see them covered with cuts, scrapes, and gashes. They were swollen and bloody. Then I notices a dark liquid; it wasn't blood. It was tar, or what I perceived to be tar, and the smell was putrid. It smelled like death and bile. I almost threw up from it, but I held it together. Upon further inspection later, from what I could tell, it was some type of secretion. I didn't realize that at the moment however. After inspecting my wounds, I turned around to examine the hellish field; except, there was no field. There was no tall grass or any grass at all for that matter. There was just an empty dirt lot... covered with round golf ball sized holes. Category:Beings